Angel Tears
by Theia-Eos
Summary: *Formely: A Band-Aid is all you need* Satine can't go through telling Christian she doesn't love him... Can it be a happy ending after all? And they said angels never cried...
1. BandAid

*A/N* I am the only one that thinks Satine wouldn't go through telling Christian she doesn't love him? I mean, just look at him! I don't think so!!! Anyhoo, this is that particular scene MY way!  
  
Disclaimer: I've chained Christian to my bed (and I'm not sharing!), Satine is locked in my closet and Harold's stuck on the roof... riiiiiiiiiight... I also thought of MR cuz I'm such a genius... (Bas Lurhman owns it all... I'm so depressed...)  
  
A band-aid is all you need  
  
Satine took one last, shaky breath before placing her gloved hand on the handle. She turned her head slightly and caught Harold's eye. He stood, making sure she went through with it all. Her thoughts blackened at the thought; if only he wasn't there... She wouldn't have to break Christian's heart.  
  
She pushed the door open quickly, like pulling a band-aid off. The faster you do it, the less painful it'll be. She watched him turn at the sound through her veil. She was mourning now, for the heart she was about to break, and for the love she was about to destroy. His eyes clouded in confusion when he realized she wasn't ready.  
  
"Wha..?" Was all the escaped his lips. For a moment, Satine stared at them, knowing all she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him, and everything would be alright again. But that was impossible.  
  
She braced herself for the blow. "I'm staying with the duke." A knife pierced her heart. His jaw dropped in disbelief, and he took a step forward. This couldn't be real. He'd fallen asleep and this was a horrible dream he was dreaming.  
  
"After you left, the duke came to me and offered me everything." The knife twisted itself around painfully. "Everything I've always dreamed of."  
  
His beautiful blue-green eyes bored into hers, searching for a sign that she didn't mean it. That this was some sort of trick. She prayed for her acting skills to stay strong, for his sake.  
  
"But... What about last night? What about what we said?" His voice was laced with panic and... fear.  
  
Another knife in her chest. "Please don't do this Chris..." she begged silently.  
  
"I'm not like you Christian," she spoke, not looking him in the eye. Her resolved wasn't keeping strong. The slow pulling of the band-aid. "I can't just pick up and leave whenever I please. The Moulin Rouge is my home."  
  
"My prison", she thought. "The Moulin Rouge is my home," Satine repeated, ignoring her previous thought.  
  
"This... This isn't real," he mumbled, disoriented. Why wasn't he waking up? He looked at her, hoping to see an act he could distinguish from the truth. This wasn't right, she looked heartbroken inside. Christian could see right through her, but doubt nagged at him. What if he was wrong this time? What if he was seeing what he wanted?  
  
"This can't be real," he repeated. "Something's the matter!"  
  
Her face froze, but only for a moment. A familiar tightness in her chest distracted her from her act. Her breaths shortened. "He can't see me like this," he mind screamed as she turned from him. This was the sign Christian needed.  
  
"Something's wrong! Tell me what's wrong!"  
  
When she didn't answer, his panic took over. "Tell me what's wrong! TELL ME THE TRUTH!"  
  
Finally, the tightness was gone, but the knives where still there. Satine made a lunged for the door. She had to get away. This hurt too much and she would give in soon. The knives hurt too much.  
  
Christian grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. "Tell me the truth!"  
  
"The truth?" she choked out. "The truth is: I am the Hindu Courtesan, and I choose the Maharaja."  
  
He looked like he'd just been kicked in the stomach. A small sound escaped his lips as he blinked several times from the blow.  
  
Another knife. This was too much. "I don't care if he's watching. I don't care! Christian loves me, and that's all that matters..."  
  
"He's watching," she whispered so Harold wouldn't hear. She knew he was. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Just play along."  
  
Disbelief registered on Christian's face. He was too confused to think, or move... Satine thought there was no hope for them anymore. She closed her eyes at the pain she'd caused them both. She took two steps forwards, and collapsed on the floor.  
  
Christian uttered a cry of surprise but couldn't get his limbs to cooperate.  
  
Wracked sobs convulsed her thin body. She wrapped herself in a tight ball and ignored Harold's angry presence. "I'm so sorry," she sniffled. "I didn't mean any of it! I had to..."  
  
Harold loomed over her. "Where leaving. Now." He grabbed her arm but she pushed him away.  
  
"NO! I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Satine, Now!" he yelled.  
  
Her only response was more crying. Suddenly, she grabbed her veil and threw it at the wall facing her.  
  
"I don't need you anymore! Christian loves me, and I love him! Nothing can ever change that!" she yelled, staring straight at Harold. She rushed to Christian and hugged him fiercely. "I didn't mean any of it. I had no choice! I'm so sorry..."  
  
"Why?" The simple question nearly broke her heart again.  
  
"The duke..."  
  
"Come what may, Satine. Or have you forgotten?" he accused, hurt. She shook her head against him.  
  
"He was going to kill you. And I had to protect you... I couldn't bear losing you..." she explained tearfully.  
  
"But... last night... We said we'd leave. Why couldn't we just leave?"  
  
"I..." Satine began. How could she tell him she was dying? He'd never love her after...  
  
"And are you able to care for her through her condition?" Harold asked, reprimanding.  
  
Christian's eyebrows furrowed. What was he talking about? He felt Satine stiffen against him.  
  
"She hasn't told you the whole story."  
  
"Harold, stop it!" she yelled.  
  
"Why? Are you afraid your 'true love' won't feel the same way afterwards?"  
  
She didn't respond.  
  
"Satine, what is he talking about?" Christian inquired, worried. She was keeping something from him. Something serious.  
  
"I..."  
  
"Go on, chickpea," Harold challenged. He hated causing her pain, but this was for the best...  
  
She dared a quick glance in her lover's eyes. They were filled with worry, and fear. It didn't help.  
  
"I'm dying," she mumbled, almost inaudibly. But he heard.  
  
"You're... NO!" He let her go and collapsed on the ground, his head resting in his hands  
  
She let out a choked sob and closed her eyes. Why couldn't they just be happy?  
  
Christian got up as quickly as he sat. "We'll get the best doctor there is! And we'll move to the country if we have to. You'll be alright, you'll see. As long as we have each other." He caressed her tear-streaked cheek. She smiled tearfully.  
  
Harold pulled out a hanky, genuinely touched by Christian's affection. They did truly love each other. He blew his nose loudly and completely ruined the moment. They both looked at him, surprised.  
  
He went to Christian and patted him on the back.  
  
"What about the duke?" Christian asked.  
  
"I'll see what I can do," Harold answered.  
  
Satine smiled and rushed to give Harold a hug. "Thank you," she whispered.  
  
It seems a band-aid was all they really needed.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED  
  
R&R please!! 


	2. Somewhere Safe

*A/N* Part of the song, The Show Must Go On was used at the end. Sorry about the really slow update, I had no ideas. Enjoy :)  
  
"Where are we going?" Satine asked softly as Harold and Chocolat piled her luggage on the carriage.  
  
Harold spoke hastily, as if someone were after them, "Somewhere safe."  
  
Satine's hand reached out to her side and found Christian's. She looked up and smiled at him, trying to reassure both of them. He managed a small, nervous laugh and clasped her hand tighter.  
  
It was the dead of the night; even the Children of the Underworld were asleep now. Harold had roused the lovers from sleep a few moments before and had ordered them to dress. Confused and still very much asleep, they didn't object but wondered what in the bloody Hell Harold was up to. They soon found their possessions packed and ready to go.  
  
Satine looked in the driver's seat and found it empty. She frowned, perplexed. "Who will take us?"  
  
"Chocolat." Harold's voice was filled with urgency, and Satine thought it best to ask no more questions. "Go on," he ushered them inside and hopped in beside them.  
  
"We're taking you somewhere secret. No one knows about this but the two of us, not even Marie."  
  
Satine began to protest but Harold raised his hand in a shushing motion. "Let me finish."  
  
The carriage began to move forward. Harold's eyes darted to the window several times during his speech. "You will hide there until the duke leaves Montmartre. I will have someone fetch you when he does. You will have food and drink brought to you. You are not to leave that place until I have sent for you is that clear?" He stressed the last three words, looking directly at Satine.  
  
"I feel like a prisoner..." she mumbled.  
  
"Nevertheless, you will stay in hiding if you care for your life, and Christian's, is that clear?" Harold repeated, his voice slowly become more and more of a whisper since he began to speak.  
  
"Harold," Satine matched his tone, "why are you whispering?" He didn't answer, but his eyes darted to the window once more. "You don't honestly think he can hear us?!"  
  
"It's for your safety. Promise me you won't leave the-" Satine rolled her eyes and lay on Christian's lap, cuddling onto him. "This is madness," she mumbled sleepily.  
  
Harold took her comment as an affirmation and looked over at Christian. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd left, and he looked rather pale and shaky. Harold patted him on the shoulder and proceeded to look out the window. Soon, Satine could be heard snoring softly.  
  
"She's going to die, isn't she?" Harold looked at Christian in surprise. "You're hiding us from the duke so she can die in peace. You don't think she'll live."  
  
Harold suddenly took a great interest in his feet as he tried to think of an answer to appease Christian's fears. But there were no words, not the right ones to say he was sorry.  
  
"I don't want her to die," Christian said, his voice breaking slightly. He held her protectively, as if his arms could shield her from death.  
  
The carriage stopped abruptly. Satine awoke with a start and groaned. She sat up slowly and pressed her forehead in his neck. "Do we have to go..." She looked up at him and smile, but it faded quickly when she saw his tear- filled eyes. "What's wrong?"  
  
"You have a fever." Christian touched her cheek and neck, worry beginning to show on his handsome face.  
  
"You're hands are just cold," she mumbled groggily, even thought her head felt like it was about to burst. Her eyes kept involuntarily closing.  
  
He shook his head. "No..."  
  
Harold led them to a small cabin-like shack hidden in the trees, Christian helping Satine walk. She coughed violently a few times but forced her eyes to stay focused; Christian was worried enough without her having to faint.  
  
Harold opened the door slowly. It creaked and groaned, and a musty smell escaped from inside. It was a very small room, only big enough to fit a bed with a small round table in a dusty corner. Christian lay Satine on the bed. She protested that she felt fine, and he needn't worry, but she couldn't find the energy to sit up. She gave up, coughing deeply a few times before rolling over and falling asleep instantly.  
  
"Do you think she'll make it through the night?" Christian asked fearfully, not actually wanting to know the answer. Chocolat, who was bringing in the luggage stopped on his tracks.  
  
"I'm no doctor, Christian."  
  
Chocolat removed his hat and said, "her soul will never leave you."  
  
Christian nodded dumbly and sat down beside Satine. He stroked her hair and kissed her burning forehead.  
  
"Today's the day, when dreaming ends..."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


End file.
